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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24634846">No Debt Unpaid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders'>frozenCinders</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, ryou is also there</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:16:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,852</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24634846</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marik finds out that Bakura really likes getting his head massaged. When he wants to return the favor, Marik has no idea how to tell Bakura why he absolutely cannot touch his back.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thief King Bakura/Marik Ishtar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No Debt Unpaid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>see <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24576709">"One and the Same"</a> for context as to the dynamic i've chosen for tkb being in the modern world</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><div>
  <p>When Marik walks through Ryou's front door, he doesn't see Bakura at first.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's, um..." Ryou has to suppress a laugh and covers his mouth, pointing to the table where Bakura sits with his head down and his arms spread. Marik hears faint scribbling.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I guess he didn't really have anything as a kid back then," Ryou says, sympathetic now. "I've been trying to help him sort of... relive the childhood he didn't get. It's something for him to do, at least."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>When Marik walks closer, he sees... crayons. Bakura is hard at work coloring in a page depicting a cartoon mouse with a piece of cheese. Marik decides to leave him alone for the moment and sits on the couch to talk with Ryou for a while.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"-- Oh, and one of my favorite horror franchises just got a new movie! Wanna watch it together later?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik still finds himself enamored with moving pictures, but horror films, he could do without.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Um... a movie, maybe..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What, you don't-- oh," Ryou gets interrupted by Bakura suddenly plopping down between them. "Hello."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hello," Bakura says back, but he's already looking at Marik.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You learned a word of Japanese. Good job," Marik praises with a disingenuous smile. Bakura narrows his eyes at him, his bottom lip twitching into a near pout.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, I forgot to mention," Ryou speaks up, though his voice can't budge Bakura's eyes. "My friend gave me a recipe for brownies that I was going to try baking soon. I can do it tonight, since you're visiting!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That would be nice, Ryou, thank you," Marik says, his smile soft and sincere this time. He looks at Ryou for just long enough to respond to him before indulging Bakura in his staring contest. A slow smile stretches across Bakura's face and he suddenly blows at Marik's eyes, forcing him to blink.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That's cheating!" he complains.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"H-heheh."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His stupid, cute laugh... Marik breaks eye contact to let his gaze float a little higher. Bakura's hair is so wild and fluffy. Marik can't help but wonder what it would look like if it were a little more tame.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ryou, could I borrow a hairbrush?" he asks, ignoring the curious look Bakura gives him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, sure!" Ryou answers before fetching it for him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"This will probably take a while," Marik muses aloud, getting comfortable on the couch. He turns Bakura as best he can until he catches on and adjusts so his back is facing Marik. He turns his head to look at him, still wondering what he's up to, and Marik grabs his head with both hands and makes him face forward.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't move, okay?" he says.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why do I have to sit still?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Because I asked you to."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Judging by the shift in Bakura's posture, Marik hazards a guess that he's making a face at him. At least he's not as argumentative as the spirit was.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bakura doesn't budge as Marik brushes his hair. He sits still and doesn't make a sound even when Marik frets that he must be hurting him at least a little whenever he encounters a tough knot. As Marik is close to being done, Bakura starts leaning his head back a bit with each stroke of the brush, until he falls back onto Marik.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Alright, that's good enough," he figures. "Get up."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>No response.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"... Okay, I'm giving you permission to move, so will you please get up?" Marik tries, figuring Bakura is being petty. It takes him not responding to that either for Marik to realize his eyes are closed. He's probably asleep.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Was it... that soothing..?" Marik thinks aloud, a little incredulous. That took probably about an hour, and Bakura's entire head must be stinging from all the tugging.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik scoots back, Bakura slipping a little further into a laying position with each movement. He stops when he's got Bakura's head on his lap, sinking a hand into that fluffy hair just to see how much softer it is now. He rubs at his scalp, gentle and apologetic, and Bakura's eyes slowly open, just enough to indicate that he's awake.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I like this better," he mumbles, so low and sleepy that it takes Marik a second to figure out that he actually used words.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yeah?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik adjusts so Bakura is more centered in his lap, sliding both hands into his hair now. He massages Bakura's head, watching his eyes slip closed in bliss.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How's this?" he asks, realizing he's smiling only by the way it paints his voice.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Mmmuh."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik laughs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I know, how about I wash your hair for you sometime?" he offers. "I bet you'd like that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bakura just hums, non-committal. He only opens his eyes when Marik stops massaging him to play with his hair.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Eye for an eye," he says. Marik is confused until Bakura sits up and hops off the couch, grabbing Marik's arms to lead him somewhere.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Wait, this is Ryou's room-- hey!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He's in the kitchen. This won't take long enough to bother him."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Like it's nothing, Bakura strips Marik of his shirt and shoves him onto the bed, just like the spirit used to. Marik blinks in confusion, seeing as this is the first time this particular incarnation of Bakura has done anything like this. Rather than crowd in on Marik though, he begins to turn away, and then seems to stop on a whim and smirk at him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Don't move, okay?" he says, repeating Marik's own words at him. Marik glares at him as he leaves the room, dumbfounded and way too hot in the face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>In a few moments, Bakura returns, quietly closing the door behind him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I can't find any massage oil. Mind if I do it barehanded?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Oh... oh, shit. Marik freezes as Bakura approaches him. He hasn't seen his back yet-- not in this form. He doesn't know the story behind it. Any second now, Bakura will lay him onto his front and start touching his back, and the thought of it makes panic rise in Marik's lungs, like it's taking up space to force the oxygen out of his blood.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I-I can't, you don't have to-- please don't," Marik practically begs, voice becoming more urgent the closer Bakura gets. "I can't. Please."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Can't what? You don't have to do anything..?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bakura looks genuinely confused, but he's stopped at Marik's request.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Just... please don't touch my back. Please."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Begging didn't work the last fucking time he was nervous about his back, but he pleads helplessly just like when he was ten. He feels like an idiot, and Bakura must think him one too. Maybe it's because he's not breathing properly that his limbs are shaking.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>(It's not. It's fear. It's humiliation. It's shame.)</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Suddenly, he feels far away, and he feels simultaneously like his panic is rising, yet falling. His body moves, uncurling itself from the defensive position Marik had automatically fallen into, and he realizes with terror that he's not the one in control.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Somehow, he knew his alter ego would come back. He could almost sense him, but Marik hoped it was just paranoia from having learned about him. He hoped that he could really be gone for good, but nothing ever goes right for Marik, does it?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Desperate, he begs his other self to let him back out, promising that he can handle the memory, that he'll calm down, but his cries fall on deaf ears.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His own voice is the last thing he hears before he's completely disconnected.</p>
</div><div>
  <hr/>
</div><div>
  <p>It's good to get a little fresh air; even better to finally see the spirit's new body for himself. Of course, this Bakura doesn't remember Marik, but he can see that something is clearly wrong.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I've been just dying to meet you," he says, smirk growing, and Bakura's expression responds inversely, a defensive scowl placing itself on his face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Meet me? If you're not Marik, then who are you?" he asks, and Marik finds it funny that his expression and his low voice indicate that he's trying to intimidate him. He stands up abruptly, reminding Bakura that he's taller than him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Marik," he answers unhelpfully. "The better one, at least."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"The better one disappeared about a minute ago, as far as I can tell," Bakura bites.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"So scary. Look at that glare..." Marik taunts, bringing a hand up to grab Bakura's chin between his thumb and index finger. He's honestly surprised that he lets him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'll ask again. Who are you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>So cute how he growls at him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Marik. Would you like to hear it a third time?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Suddenly, Bakura grabs Marik by the forearms and pins him to the bed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ah, now this is nostalgic," Marik comments idly. "Funny how this iteration of you doesn't even have a reason to hate me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But the other one did?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why, yes he did!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bakura's grip tightens and he almost makes to pull an arm away, surely to strike him, but he stops when he remembers whose body Marik inhabits.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh, don't make this so easy, spirit," Marik tsks before kicking the hesitant thief away from him. It would be easy to stand and knock him to the floor, but...</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I thought you said "eye for an eye"? Where's my payment, then?" he asks instead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I thought you-- ... I thought <em>he</em> didn't want me to."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, let me show you why."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik climbs further onto the bed, showing Bakura his back as he does. He doesn't have to glance back to see his shock, he can hear it in that soft gasp. Marik lays down on his front just fine, actually able to relax like this, unlike his lesser half.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"... It wasn't for you," Bakura says once he finds his voice. "You haven't done anything for me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik rolls his eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Then I will, later."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Besides, if Bakura does a decent job, his lesser half might feel the prolonged effects of it later with none of the panic attack he'd inevitably get from sitting through a back rub.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Hesitantly, Bakura approaches. Marik has to bite his tongue to keep his impatience in check, but he'd tap his foot if he were standing. Instead, he drums his fingers on his arm and glares at the headboard as he waits for Bakura to get on with it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik instinctively tenses at the fingers barely ghosting across his back, and Bakura pulls away in response. Marik reaches behind himself to grab Bakura's wrist and plant his hand on Marik's back, silently gauging his own reaction. Stuck inside the darkest corner of his lesser half's mind, he could barely feel the whispers of ideas of the sensations he'd feel, and it was rare enough that anyone would touch him anyway-- until he started fooling around with the spirit, that is. This Marik, though, doesn't think he has ever been touched until this iteration of Bakura grabbed him by the arms.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It feels... well, it feels. Bakura's hand is warm and solid and <em>extant</em> and that somehow surprises Marik. Carefully, Bakura drags his palm up the expanse of Marik's back, fingers curling around his shoulder before finally bringing his other hand down and dragging them both down to the small of his back.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That's good..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik slipped into the modern tongue, forgetting that Bakura has been pulled from thousands of years in the past and thus does not speak it, but doesn't care enough to switch back for him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I bet you'd get a kick out of this if it were him, wouldn't you?" Marik taunts, knowing Bakura can't understand him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Speak a language I know," Bakura says; a reasonable request that Marik does not comply with.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Of course you prefer him. Everyone does. I haven't done a damn thing to you yet and already, you hate me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik chuckles.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I don't hate you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bakura's response surprises Marik. Maybe he does understand a little bit of the modern Egyptian language, even if he's still hardly picked up a lick of Japanese from Ryou besides the boy's name.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why not?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bakura pauses, his hands unmoving on the wings carved into Marik's back.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Because you're Marik too."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His words should go without saying, but they affect Marik for some reason. He growls without venom.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Get too soft on me and I'll switch back while you're doing this," he threatens. Bakura responds with more pressure on his back, and Marik lets himself relax into it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Soon, Marik feels himself unravelling as Bakura presses sweet, firm circles into his skin with his thumbs. He can tell, vaguely, that Bakura is picking and choosing where to apply pressure-- no doubt searching for the least damaged inches of Marik's back. He doesn't care where Bakura touches him, just doesn't want him to stop.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Unfortunately, he does exactly that when a soft knock at the door steals his attention. Marik tries to scowl, but finds that he's too relaxed to put any effort into it. Instead, he's just giving the wall opposite the door a vaguely dirty look.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ryou hardly gets half a word out before he realizes he's talking to the wrong Marik. Marik goes through the trouble of turning to look at him and Ryou won't even meet his eyes. Marik snorts.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Do I really look so dangerous like <em>this?</em>"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He frowns when Bakura takes his hands off of him completely, his warmth evaporating almost instantly and leaving Marik feeling less cold than empty.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Um... the brownies are done, if you want any. They're in the kitchen," Ryou says. "Save at least one for your other self, please."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>With that, he leaves them alone.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What did he say?" Bakura asks immediately.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That you should keep rubbing my back to appease me," Marik replies. Bakura huffs.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"That's not what he said."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, something about sweets," he relents. "Now keep going."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>At the mention of sweets, though, Bakura climbs right off the bed and follows Ryou out of the room. Marik breathes a quick, irritated sigh. He decides to rest his eyes while he waits for Bakura to come back, but he's still relaxed enough that he dozes off.</p>
</div><div>
  <hr/>
</div><div>
  <p>When Marik comes to, the first thing he does is roll onto his side. Untangling his arms from around the pillow comes second.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you... you again?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>At Bakura's voice and the reminder of what happened, Marik shoots up.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You're-- are you... are you alright?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bakura raises a brow, and Marik surmises with a relieved sigh that he's unharmed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ryou made desserts. Come eat."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik takes a moment to find his shirt and pull it on before leaving for the kitchen. On the counter, there are a bunch of little ghost-shaped brownies, decorated with cute faces and patterns made of icing. Marik picks one with purple icing, taking a careful bite over the sink.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh. Ryou, these are good," Marik calls, and Ryou thanks him from the living room. Marik peeks for a moment out to see that he's scrolling through Netflix for a movie to watch. At least he's not in the horror section.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Do the different colors taste different..?" Bakura asks, suddenly very close to Marik. "I can't tell."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Well, no. For stuff like that, they usually just color them differently for decoration's sake."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you sure?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik pauses, confused.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes?" he answers slowly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Let me make sure."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Bakura kisses him with a smug little smile and Marik bites him for using such a corny excuse.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No, be nice," Bakura scolds, wrapping both arms around Marik's waist and hugging him close. He lays a long, gentle kiss on Marik's forehead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Like that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Showoff. You have to stand on your toes just to reach my forehead," Marik teases.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Want me to cut your feet off to make up the difference?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I'm sure I could convince my sister to lend you a pair of her shoes."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Huh? Why do I need your sister's shoes?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Does Bakura not know what high heels are yet? Marik can't recall if the old tongue has a word for them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh well. Nevermind," he says. "Let's see what Ryou is doing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ryou seems to have settled on some animated film. He moves to the edge of the couch and pats for Marik and Bakura to sit down. Bakura picks the other end of the couch so he can lounge off the side of it, and Marik sits between the two of them. Or, at least, he starts there. Probably not even fifteen minutes pass before Marik finds himself inching closer to Bakura, who pretends not to notice until he throws an arm out to grab Marik and pull him up against his chest.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Marik tries to pay attention to the movie, but Bakura keeps stealing little bits and pieces of it like the thief he is. He runs his hands through Marik's hair, gives him an occasional random little kiss on the face, and Marik misses a whole line of dialogue every time.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It's not like he'd ever tell him to stop, though. Maybe he's not so much a thief, considering Marik is willingly giving him what he wants. He'll just have to steal some back later. Eye for an eye, after all.</p>
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